


New Rules

by actualsaii



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Dancer, F/M, Song Lyrics, break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualsaii/pseuds/actualsaii
Summary: People get together. And people break up. Something like that happened to Min Yoongi and Y/N, when he broke the things off with her. But can you let go of your ex completely?





	New Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello. A long time ago (okay, not that long time ago) I was listening to Dua Lipa's New rules. And suddenly, I caught myself opening the word and writing down the first draft that came into my mind. And now, here I go.  
> P.S.: English is still isn't my mother tongue. So it sucks. I'm sorry.

**One: Don’t pick up the phone, you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone.**

 

I didn’t have the slightest idea whether he was drunk or alone, but he was definitely ringing my phone at 3 am. And that was socially unacceptable. I was supposed to be already asleep, tomorrow (well, better said today) was a big day for me since I was graduating from Performing Arts and I was supposed to perform my final contemporary choreography. My whole degree depended on it, but no, a man called Min Yoongi, by the way, very famous idol, thought it would be funny to call me at this ungodly hour.

“Min freaking Yoongi, if your life doesn’t depend on what you want, then I will personally come to Big Hit’s studios and I will castrate you. What do you want?” because using harsh words on him was the only way not to let myself be hurt again.

“And what if my life really depends on it?”

“Spill it.”

But the line was silent. I only heard him breathing and occasionally clicking with his mouse. Of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised. He definitely was in his studio, working some magic on their upcoming album. But I didn’t expect he would be thinking about me. Thinking about me to the point he actually picked up his phone and called me.

“Yoongi, I have no time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 am. I’m performing tomorrow. I should get at least a bit of sleep. Spill it or I’m hanging up.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

This time, the line on my side went silent. I was thinking of all the answers possible, but he left me with none. I replayed our last meeting – I was yelling at him because he broke up with me. After two years of dating secretly, he broke up with me because it didn’t mean anything to him anymore. I personally didn’t believe it, but I played my role. He broke my heart so don’t tell me I didn’t have the last right to yell at him. I had. I really did.

Yet I picked up the phone and talked to him.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “And I’m lonely.”

“The hell you are,” I muttered to myself, sighing heavily. I know, it might seem odd that I was talking to him for the very first time after our breakup like this, but in the end… we both were mundane only, right? What has happened, happened.

“I know I can’t ask you to come back to me. Not after what I have done to you. It was something unforgivable, but please…”

“Please what?” I asked, genuinely waiting for the answer. I was interested in what he has to say, but unfortunately, he kept quiet. I held the phone for a little longer, my eyes slowly closing, and I haven’t even realized, he hung up.

What was the rule number one?

Not to pick up his phone?

Well, my bad.

 

* * *

 

 

**Two: Don’t let him in, you will have to kick him out again.**

My graduating performance went really well. I was the last one to perform and everything I could think about was the dancing moves. I went through the whole choreography in my head for like millions of times just to be sure I’m going to be perfect. I wanted the dance to be perfect, I wanted to graduate with the best score among my classmates, because, let’s be honest here, I worked really hard to make it to this university. And shamelessly said, I won’t let anyone take away the few minutes of fame I deserved so badly.

And surprise, surprise, I really made it! I graduated with the highest score among my classmates. Some of them congratulated me and some of them only glared in my direction. They couldn’t stand the fact that a girl with a scholarship snatched their time to shine. I’m so sorry, whiny bitches, I’m the crowned queen tonight.

“That’s my bitch!” ladies and gentlemen, Lee Miseo, aka my best friend, aka the most shameless person I have ever known. Some of my classmates sent her resentful glares – not only because she was loud as fuck, but because she somehow made her way into the school auditorium’s backstage. She was holding a huge ass bouquet of roses. Of course, she had to be extra.

“For my one and only queen! Congratulations! Highest score, I couldn’t be prouder of you, little one!”

I hugged her, being really happy that there was someone for me. Every single one of my classmates had there their parents and close family or friends, but there wasn’t anyone for me. A year ago, I was hoping that maybe Yoongi would sneak around to see me dancing. But after what happened between us, my high hopes went straight to the hell. And my parents? After I moved to Seoul, they didn’t care anymore. I was basically my own person, without family and without any ties.

Not that it did matter anymore.

It didn’t.

“So, go get your nice ass changed and we are going to celebrate. I reserved us a booth at your favorite club in Hongdae. We should be there in one hour otherwise the reservation won’t be valid anymore. Go! Change!”

 

***

 

She wasn’t lying when she said she reserved us the whole booth. It was only two of us, but that didn’t matter. Spending time with Miseo was nice because she was giving me the hope that I could do anything. She gave me the hope that I cloud fly up to the sky and reach all my dreams.

And she was also the only one that knew about my forbidden relationship with BTS’s rapper. She was so angry at him when I told her he broke the things between us. She was ready to burst into the Big Hit’s building, spitting in his face because he hurt her best friend. I’m really glad I stopped her. I didn’t need my best friend being dragged out of the building in handcuffs. Not that it would happen, Miseo’s papi worked in higher circles, being a diplomat or what.

“Ready to dance some more, my dear best friend?”

“Like never before.”

Dancing in the club was our thing. We both had a soft spot for dancing. Me, on the stage, and Miseo, around the pole. Yes, have I mentioned that even though her father worked for the Korean government, Miseo was a pro stripper? Nope? So now you know.

And now, imagine a basic fake blonde student and pink-haired half Korean slash half American dancing in one of the most famous clubs in Hongdae, twirling around each other, touching and grinding. Someone would call it inappropriate, but we called it art. It was art and it was a gift from God himself. Because we knew how to move our bodies, so men would go crazy. We knew which buttons to push, we simply knew what to do. And that was one of the things Yoongi loved about me so much.

In my drunken state, I was really thinking hard why he broke off things with me. He declared he loved me so much, he even manifested his love for me in bed as well. Don’t get me wrong here, he loved fucking me hard and raw, but when he was making love to me? Lord, save us all, that was something entirely different.

“Don’t think too hard, it doesn’t suit you,” she whispered into my ear as her hands slid down my hips. For men, it seemed so sexual, but for me? It didn’t mean anything. I could have sworn to god, I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t imagining things, I didn’t think about the fact that it was a woman touching me in an inappropriate way. No. I had my fun. I was enjoying tonight because I finally finished something I was working on so badly and hardly.

I graduated.

And this night was the night.

“I’m not thinking about anything,” I murmured, swaying my hips to the beat of the music. I was being carried away, not thinking about the consequences. I drank too much. And when I drink too much, I also think too much. I couldn’t blame my best friend for treating me like this. In the end, it was her who was standing by my side when I felt like utter shit after the breakup.

Thanks lord our relationship wasn’t all public, because the social sites would have been chewing on me so hard by now.

Pros and cons of dating an idol in utter secrecy.

“You’ve been in contact with that son of a bitch, haven’t you?” she asked me, suddenly pulling me away from the dance floor. We ended up standing by the bar, Miseo ordering us another round of shots. Because we’ve been pretty much known in this area, we already had an open check there. Thanks to Miseo’s papi paying for our night outs.

“How the fuck do you know? Are you stalking my phone?” I asked, not even trying to hide the fact that yes, indeed, Min Yoongi contacted me last night. But as far as my currently drunk mind remembers, we didn’t talk for more than two minutes. Was it something I should be ashamed of?

“You still have a soft spot for him.”

“Who wouldn’t? I was dating him for two fucking years, Miseo. I loved him, and I really believed he was the right one for me.”

“Idols are never the right ones,” Miseo shook her head, almost as if she was talking about her own experience. But as far as I was aware of, she had her sugar daddy. He was a CEO and I still didn’t know his name.

“Said the one who has never dated an idol.”

“Because I have never desired so. You were the one who told me how disastrous it was. Coming home late, sneaking into your bed, sneaking around, not being able to hold your hands properly in the public. That’s not a relationship, that’s a cage. And don’t tell me otherwise. To us!” she said suddenly, handing me the shot of tequila. I already felt my stomach doing some backflips, but I still took the shot, downing it in one swift movement. I was celebrating tonight, I wasn’t having any of her shit.

I wasn’t having any of my ex’s shit.

Not anymore.

He shouldn’t have left me heartlessly like that.

Idols.

Fucking idols.

***

 

I didn’t remember how I got home. I vaguely remembered Miseo called us an uber, but that was everything. Right now, I was lying in my bed, praying to god to spare me so I won’t wake up with an ugly headache next morning.

Of course, my prayers went unnoticed as someone knocked on my doors.

4 fucking am.

Who the hell had the guts to knock on my door at 4 am?

Groaning, I got up from my bed, making my way to the front door. I was still wearing the clothes I had on when we were in the club. And I was very aware of the fact that my make-up was smudged all over my face and my hair looked like a got an electric shock. But I didn’t care. The intruder should be aware of the fact that I’m not going to be the miss universe at four in the morning.

I opened the door.

And my jaw dropped to the basement.

Yoongi was standing there in his usual attire – black skinny jeans, oversized hoodie, black face mask and a bottle cap beanie. He gave me the look – and he didn’t even ask me when he passed by me, entering my very own apartment. I closed the door after him, turning to him in utter amazement. Where did he take the guts from? Wasn’t he the one to breakup with me?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my mind a bit dizzy. I didn’t know whether I wanted to puke or sleep. My mind was spinning, and my stomach was definitely upset.

“I came to congratulate you. I was there today, you know,” he said, and my heart really did some backflips.

He was there.

He came to my graduating performance.

He was there, and he saw me slaying.

“So, you saw your ex-girlfriend slaying on stage. Aren’t you a bit sad you dumped me?” I asked, boldly. In my defense, I wasn’t really thinking. Just the fact that he was there, sitting on my sofa, scanning my whole body… It was sending me to another universe and back.

“To be honest? I really am. But not just because of your body, of course. But because of your presence. I miss waking up next to you. I miss your touch in the morning. I miss you being bold enough to promenade yourself through our apartment in panties and my oversized t-shirt only. I should have been thinking twice before I broke off things with you.”

“Too late, don’t you think?”

“You are saying it like you don’t love me anymore.”

“And do you?”

Hundred points to Slytherin, aka both of us. It was too late – or too early – for those games. I really was tired, and I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. I didn’t belong to him anymore, so why were we having the conversation in a first place?

And suddenly, this 2017’s song was playing in my head over and over again.

_Two, don’t let him in, you will have to kick him out again._

 

* * *

 

**Three: Don’t be his friend, you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning.**

“Can we be friends?”

Was the worst question he could have asked me and ‘yes’ was the worst answer I could have given to him. I wasn’t ready to be his friend yet but watch me fucking up my life once again. After I graduated, I joined this prestigious dance studio. I was working hard on myself, pushing myself to the painful limits. And besides that, I was meeting with my ex-boyfriend more than on any other regular basis.

I know, it’s not something I should be proud of, I didn’t even tell Miseo. She would drag me about it so much. But somehow… deep in my heart, I was really enjoying Yoongi’s company. Right now, I was sitting on his bed with a bottle of wine in my hand. We didn’t bother to drink from glasses. Well, he didn’t want to actually leave his room and go fetch them.

Because as much as I was keeping it secret from Miseo, he was keeping it secret from the boys. Don’t get me wrong here, they liked me and everything. But they didn’t agree with Yoongi meeting me after he ended the relationship.

Which was only natural.

While I was getting lost in my thoughts, Yoongi was sitting on the floor, groaning. He was trying to pack his luggage with some stuff. He told me they were about to go to Europe for a week or so. Filming something or what. I didn’t get the details since I wasn’t part of the inner circle anymore.

“Considering your tempo, there won’t be any of the wine left for me,” he said, zipping his luggage. I haven’t noticed him being done with packing, but whatever.

He plopped on the bed beside me, taking the bottle gently. He brought it to his lips and I couldn’t stop staring. If I didn’t have half of the bottle in me already, I would feel pretty much intimidated by his sudden closeness. Which I was anyway, so who was I lying to?

“You are staring,” he said, a playful smirk finding its way to his oh so beautiful facial features. Yes, I was staring. Yes, I was still crazy about him.

Or again? I didn’t know at that moment. I lost my last brain cell as I leaned closer to him, locking our lips in a sweet but messy kiss. He leaned closer, wrapping his slender fingers around my nape, pulling me into his body.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long.

“Friends don’t kiss each other,” he whispered against my lips, never breaking the eye contact. Fucking wine, seriously. If only I hadn’t brought it here. None of this would happen.

Or would it?

“I know. We are not friends,” I said, not knowing whether it was me or the wine talking. Probably the wine, but let’s pretend I haven’t really downed half of the wine I brought there. But in my defense, he was packing, and I was bored. The nice bottle was just keeping me company. It wouldn’t be nice of me to just let it lay there on the bed.

Fine, I was drunk talking to myself while my ex was still so close to me so I could feel his hot breath hitting my neck and therefore luring the goosebumps out. Whops, another wrong move, I guess.

“Should I remind you that just a few minutes ago you agreed to be my friend again?”

“And what does it mean to be your friend?” I asked teasingly, leaning against the pillow on his bed. As much as I wanted to be close to him, I was also drunk. On wine. And on him as well. His closeness wasn’t doing any good to me. So, fighting my own self, I pulled away unwillingly.

But the universe decided I wasn’t the lucky one today. He made himself comfortable right next to me. A few fucking inches and I still could feel his hot breath. Hitting. My. Skin. Damn. You. Min. Yoongi.

“Being my friend means,” he started but in the middle of the sentence, he simply stopped, staring into nothing. Then, he reached for the wine, bringing the bottle to the lips I kissed just a few minutes ago. I never was this jealous of a bottle of wine like I was right now.

Just please, do yourself a favor and slap yourself.

“Proceed with the information, Yoongi. Feed me. What does it mean to be your friend?” I asked again, trying really hard to stay awake and hear him out. He obviously had something to say. Something that was probably going out of him rather hard, but still.

In a second, I was under him, his whole body shadowing mine. He was towering over me, yet he kept his mouth shut. Seems like I wasn’t getting the answer out of him, but in the end, it didn’t matter. He gave me something better. Something words couldn’t describe as he dragged his lips down my neck and collarbones.

I guess I broke the rule number three.

Because I really woke up in his bed in the morning.

 

* * *

**And if you are under him, you ain’t getting over him.**

_I’m never getting over you_ , I told myself as I woke up in his bed – for like the third time this week. One would say we stopped meeting in secret, but we didn’t. Miseo still didn’t know I was seeing my ex-boyfriend and his bandmates still didn’t know I came to oversleep at their apartment a few times per week.

Also, the terms of our relationship were still unknown, and I didn’t dare to ask him. Stepping onto that soil would mean to step into the hell of dating someone in secret and I wasn’t sure whether I was ready for something like that again. I graduated, I had my dream job, I finally had a steady life.

But not a steady relationship.

Maybe I was destined to stay by his side like it when no one knew.

One thing was sure as hell – I woke up under him, therefore I wasn’t getting over him. The song was right, though. Every single rule was right.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me suddenly, his eyes still closed. His voice was low and raspy – something that was turning me on so badly. It was still early in the morning, but I was supposed to be at the studio in an hour. It was far away from the place he lived at, meaning I only had approximately twenty minutes to get my lazy ass from his king-sized bed and get ready.

“Just casual things like I’m already late and stuff.”

“Liar.”

“Talking about yourself?” I raised my eyebrow, slowly getting out of the bed, but the pair of slender arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me back.

“What’s with that attitude of yours? Haven’t I showed you properly last night?”

“The hell you did. I wanted to smack you, by the way. You very well knew that I’m having a class today. A really important class. Yet you had to go and destroy me.”

“You asked for that,” he tried to save his ass, but he failed miserably.

“Excuse me, young man, I haven’t asked for anything. If I remember correctly, you were the whining one last night. I just wanted to help you, you know…”

I tried, but I failed miserably as well. Who knows, maybe we were really doomed to spend the eternity with each other. That’s what brought to one certain question – will this status of us ever meet the happy end? I chewed on my lower lip, staring into the ceiling wordlessly.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Can we have a happy end?” I asked at the same time the question left his oh so kissable lips. It must have taken him off guard because he pulled away a little, his strong grip getting weaker and weaker until he let go of me completely. A strange expression played over his features and I immediately knew I crossed the line. We have known each other for ages, but there were still some restricted areas I wasn’t supposed to put my feet on.

“Y/N,”

The way my name rolled down his tongue made me shudder, the goosebumps covering my skin almost immediately. Yet, I remained in one place, now moving an inch. Now, he laid on his back, staring into the ceiling. The black curtains were still closed, so the room was drowned in darkness. But I could still see him, I could still see the gleam in his eyes as he was thinking about the possible answer.

At the same time, I somehow knew I won’t be getting one.

“I can’t promise you a happy end. Not anymore.”

“I didn’t ask for a promise, you know. If you listened to me properly, you would…”

“Shut up.”

And once again, I ended up caged under him. I guess that singer was right, I won’t be getting over him. Not anytime soon.

 

 


End file.
